


You Lost, Doctor?

by hailtherandom



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Genderbending, Hermine takes matters into her own hands, Newt is a teasing bastard and she knows it, Rule 63, Science, Sex, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailtherandom/pseuds/hailtherandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The next morning, Hermine goes to work with a clear head. It sticks for all of about thirteen minutes, until Newt walks into the offices in a pair of jeans and an old, threadbare undershirt instead of her usual button-down, and numbers flicker out of Hermine's mind like lights in a Jaeger. Newt glances up and shoots her a filthy grin, then drops her coat on her desk and pulls out a pair of gloves.<br/>Hermine loses whole equations to the kaiju rippling over the muscles in Newt's forearms."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Lost, Doctor?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princekaiju](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princekaiju/gifts).



> Written for Laine, sort of for her birthday, who said that the feminine German form of "Hermann" is "Hermine" and that Newt should still be called Newt, so that's why they're called Hermine and Newt.  
> Based on this fanart: http://hailtherandom.tumblr.com/post/60290586508 (which is not the original post but Laine keeps changing her url and I don't ever change mine)

"And just a couple drops… of…"

_Hsssssssss._

"Shit. No. Shit!"

But it's too late, and foaming blue bubbles are starting to pop and fizz all over Newt's kaiju liver sample. She looks around frantically for something to cover the testing dish with, but before she can seal the top, the liver sample explodes, showering blue all over Newt, Newt's side of the office, and - she winces and bites her tongue - a bit on Hermine's desk. She thinks about going and cleaning it up, pretending it never happened, and carrying on in her own half of the room (but Hermine will know. Hermine always knows). But kaiju entrails aren't exactly good for the skin on their own, let alone mixed with things that make them explode, and suddenly Newt is aware of the itching burn moving up her arms and spreading over her chest through her shirt where the splatter was the worst. Newt thinks she just might smell burning wood, and takes off running toward the chemical shower in the tiny side room before she starts to smell burning flesh as well.

The chemical shower is freezing at first, but Newt doesn't even really notice. She wrenches off her shirt and bra and throws them out of the cubicle, then starts scrubbing hard at her arms and hands. The cold seems to activate the burns and they sting sharply as bits of liquid kaiju solidify and fall away. Newt hisses through clenched teeth and rubs harder at her arms, then her shoulders, then her chest and her stomach and her face and her hair and anywhere there could be even a hint of blue, and she leaves trails of raw pink skin in her wake. 

The chemical burns feel like pinpricks all over her body as she toes off her shoes and slips out of now-sodden trousers. The water has finally warmed up, so Newt gropes around for the regular soap - stashed by the sink outside the shower - and lathers up her hair. Flecks of blue and small clumps of hair rinse out with the soap and Newt sighs as she holds her face directly beneath the stream of water. The heat brings the prickles of pain to her cheeks and forehead, but they're not as bad as her hands. She'll be fine. She's had worse.

The water starts creeping back toward cold - Newt could laugh, 2024 and the Dome still can't handle enough hot water for a shower - so she shuts it off and shakes the extra water out of her hair. Newt shoves the shower curtain aside and stares around the tiny side room until she spots a couple of towels folded up on a shelf. She grabs one, shakes it out, and wraps it around her waist, and is about to bend over to pick up her discarded shirt and - wash it? Bin it? She probably can't wear it again - when the door to the side room opens and Hermine storms in as fast as her cane will take her, shouting about desks and Pentecost.

Newt straightens up and glances over her shoulder, and she never does get to hear about what Pentecost is going to do because Hermine has come to a dead stop in the doorway, a word still sitting half-formed in her mouth.

Newt smirks.

"You lost, doctor?" she asks. "Because I'm pretty sure Pentecost's office is up a few floors."

"I… You…" Hermine falters. Her eyes flicker back and forth between Newt and the floor and Newt and the doorway and Newt and the kaiju liver explosion and Newt again. Newt's grin widens and she turns around all the way and takes a step forward. Hermine swallows and takes an instinctual step back.

"Are you okay, Dr. Gottlieb?" Newt presses. "You look a little flushed."

Hermine clears her throat and her eyes snap up to Newt's left cheek (an innocuous enough place) and she says, "No, Dr. Geiszler, I am, in fact, not alright. Would you, by any chance, happen to know why my desk has a large burn on it covered with a blue film?"

"Does it?" Curiosity pricks at Newt's brain and she brushes past Hermine as she goes to examine the desk, ignoring the muted protests of "you're on my side of the room" that trail after her.

~

Hermine tries not to gape as she shuffles after Newt. It's not easy - part of her brain is still throwing out objections, but most of her attempts to get them out are cut short by the way Newt's tattoos twist down her shoulders and around her hips and over her breasts and– no. No, Hermine snaps her attention back up to the table, where Newt is using a small pair of forceps to gently peel the blue film away from the burnt wood.

"I do hope you plan to replace this desk, now that you've burned a crater into it," she tries.

Newt grunts and doesn't look up.

"You never take proper safety precautions," Hermine tries again. "If you set up shields like you're supposed to…"

Newt waves her off with a free hand and Hermine falls silent again. They stand there for a moment, not speaking, Newt examining and Hermine staring, until Hermine growls in frustration and says, "For god's sake, Dr. Geiszler, if you're going to work out here, at least put some clothes on before Pentecost or someone comes in!"

Newt finally glances up at that. "Duly noted, Hermine. Now, if you'd just let me…?"

Hermine sighs and nods shortly and turns on her heel to go down to the cafeteria to get some stronger coffee. When she gets back, the floor of Newt's side is still covered in now-congealing blue entrails and her desk is still burned, but Newt's desk is covered in sample plates and microscopes and test tubes and Newt herself is nowhere to be seen. Hermine rolls her eyes and limps over to her own desk to rearrange some of her papers and pick up on some research she'd left off the night before. She stands at her blackboard, scribbling down figures and scientific shorthand and she almost doesn't notice when Newt comes back into the offices.

Almost.

She catches a hint of red and green ink and nearly falls off of her blackboard ladder when she turns to look. Newt's evidently dried her trousers off , or else got new ones, because she's got them belted just a notch looser than usual, but all she's got for a shirt is a towel hanging loosely around her neck. Hermine swallows hard and nods her head as Newt sits back down at her desk.

"There. Is this covered enough for you?" Newt asks disinterestedly.

"Well, ideally you'd be wearing a shirt," Hermine says, trying not to think that it would definitely not be ideal at all. "But given the fact that you blew up your latest kaiju samples and those samples burnt a hole in _my_ desk, you've probably burnt through your shirt as well and I suppose its the best we can hope for at the moment."

"You're too kind," Newt shoots back as she slides a sample tray under the microscope, and Hermine definitely does _not_ lose track of time watching the way tattoos wind around her shoulders.

~

Hermine goes to her quarters at night and splashes cold water on her face, then takes a very long, hot shower and falls heavily into bed, leaning her cane in its usual place on her bedside table. She gives herself the luxury of remembering the ink-marked slope of Newt's breasts, then shakes her head to clear it and rolls over and sleeps fitfully, as usual.

The next morning, Hermine goes to work with a clear head. It sticks for all of about thirteen minutes, until Newt walks into the offices in a pair of jeans and an old, threadbare undershirt instead of her usual button-down, and numbers flicker out of Hermine's mind like lights in a Jaeger. Newt glances up and shoots her a filthy grin, then drops her coat on her desk and pulls out a pair of gloves.

Hermine loses whole equations to the kaiju rippling over the muscles in Newt's forearms.

At closing time, she skips dinner to go back to her room and sits under a cool shower, massaging her hip and leg until cool goes cold.

The next day is swelteringly hot in the Dome. The outside heat is only compounded by the major welding teams going at the joints of all the Jaegers at once, causing waves of dry heat to spill out all over the building. Hermine's had to sacrifice her parka and even roll up her sleeves as she works and wipes sweat away from her blackboard.

Newt shows up in a t-shirt, which she promptly strips off once the K-Sciences door closes, and a loose pair of jeans, which end up in a pile on the floor.

"You could at least pretend to be professional," Hermine mutters.

"Aw, come on, dude, it's hot as hell in here. You cannot be comfortable in all that." Newt waves a hand at Hermine's neatly pressed shirt and trousers.

"However I feel about it, if Pentecost comes in–"

"If Pentecost comes in, then you can put your research forward and I'll put my pants back on. I really doubt he's never seen a woman in a sports bra before."

"That is not the point, Dr. Geiszler–"

"Then what _is_ the point, Hermine?"

"It's not bloody professional for you to just wander around in your underwear, flaunting your tattoos at everyone on our floor!" Hermine bursts out, then closes her mouth tightly and stares at a spot on the floor.

Newt blinks a few times, then breaks out into a smirk. "I knew you were looking at them."

Hermine opens her mouth, then closes it again when nothing comes out, and turns away to start working on _anything_ that will let her avoid Newt's gaze. She hears Newt laugh softly, then pull out some biopsy samples to start running tests on. Neither says a word for the rest of the morning.

Newt bows out of work right on time, but Hermine stays late. She didn't really manage to get much done during the day, so she locks the K-Sciences door and clears her blackboard and then fills it again. At twenty-two hundred or so, she concludes that there will be another kaiju attack in approximately seventeen days, circles the number, drops her chalk, and limps out, triumphant.

The high doesn't last too long. She sits hard on her bed, tossing her cane from hand to hand, staring at the wall. Hermine feels restless, full of energy despite the fact that it's edging toward ten thirty and she's been meaning to get into the K-Sciences offices earlier to talk to the engineers about some add-ons that might be useful for the Jaeger program. But getting up in the morning is harder these days - her hip protests even rolling over in bed, and dragging herself to the cafeteria for coffee is almost more trouble than it's worth.

She bounces one knee up and down rapidly and glances around the room until her eyes land on some old reports that she and Newt submitted, and suddenly Hermine's fingers are tingling and she's on her feet and to the door before she's even aware of standing up. Newt sleeps a few doors down - Hermine's there and knocking on her door and pushing in as soon as Newt opens it. 

"Hermine, what–"

"You've been showing those tattoos off for– for days," Hermine hisses, closing the door behind her with her cane. Has it been days? It feels like _years_. "And I know you're doing it on purpose."

Newt grins lazily, standing in the center of her quarters. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I'm not a completeidiot! Because I know you saw me watching and you're a devious bloody bastard with no sense of responsibility for you work or shame and you've been _blatantly_ –"

Whatever Newt has been blatantly doing is unknown for the two of them, because Newt is grinning wider and leaving closer and eventually just cuts Hermine off entirely by grabbing handfuls of her shirt and tugging her in for a kiss. Hermine stumbles forward and hears her cane clatter on the ground and a low, rumbling laugh deep in Newt's chest as her hands grab onto Newt's shoulders and she doesn't know how long the kiss goes on for before she breaks it, breathing out, "Dr. Geiszler…"

"People generally call me Newt once they've had their tongue in my mouth," Newt says, quirking one eyebrow.

Hermine sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, then lets go of one of Newt's shoulders to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "You are unbelievable."

She feels a small huff of breath against her face and then Newt, sounding small and worried, says, "you don't have to stay, you can go."

Hermine opens her eyes again and sees the mania in Newt's face replaced by trepidation for the first time in a long while, and she shakes her head. "I think not. You've been tormenting me for the last four days, it's only fair that I get to return the favor."

Newt's eyes widen a little, flashing dark, and her grin returns as she spreads her arms. "Go on, then."

She lets out a slight, surprised breath when Hermine pushes her back down onto the bed, and another fold laugh as Hermine maneuvers herself to straddle Newt's hips, and then Newt doesn't make much noise at all when Hermine seals their lips together again and steals all her words away. They kiss how they work - Newt frantically and Hermine methodically - and like their work, it clashes until it strikes a middle ground and fits seamlessly together. Hermine works her hands under the hem of Newt's shirt, feeling the faint rises and falls of ink, and rides the shallow bucking of Newt's hips.

"I want to see them," she breathes against Newt's lips.

Newt nods immediately. "Yes."

Hermine pulls her hands free and fumbles with the bottom buttons. Newt's fingers thread through her hair and drag her back up and they're kissing fervently as each button comes free. Eventually, they all part and Hermine spreads her hands out over Newt's stomach before she pushes the shirt away from Newt's shoulders. Newt sits up a little and squirms out of it completely, and Hermine reaches one arm around to unhook her bra, and both articles are tossed haphazardly onto the floor, revealing Trespasser and Onibaba stretched all across Newt's torso. Hermine ducks down and presses a hard kiss to Newt's lips, then slips down to her neck, licking along the outline of one of the Trespasser's claws.

Newt shudders and her hands come up to dig into Hermine's arms. " _Shit_."

Hermine looks up. "Good?"

Newt nods. "Yeah. Just been a while since anyone's done that."

Hermine traces the edge of the tattoo up to the kaiju's head with her tongue, then bites down. Newt inhales sharply through her nose, teeth clenched together. "Which one is this?"

"Trespasser," Newt breathes."

"Specs?"

"Uncategorized. Three hundred two feet, twenty seven hundred tons. Why–"

Hermine nips at the hollow of Newt's throat. "Date and location?"

Newt gasps quietly and turns her head to the side to give Hermine more space. "August tenth, twenty thirteen, hit in San Francisco. You know that, why are you asking me?"

"Because you're brilliant," Hermine murmurs. Newt squirms appreciatively and her eyes fall closed. "You're brilliant and mad and I think I rather like listening to you trying to talk like this."

Newt lets out a quiet, shaky groan and Hermine can feel her pulse fluttering in her neck. "Bastard."

"Just returning the favor." Hermine kisses down the slope of Newt's shoulder, biting and sucking until Newt's bucking up into her hips again and there are several deep red marks to contrast the green. Hermine holds Newt's hip with one hand and traces a tattoo with feather-light touches with the other. "Left shoulder?"

"Kaiceph," Newt groans.

"Tell me about it."

"Third attack, hit in - _fuck_ \- in Cabo San Lucas, June first of twenty fourteen. 'Bout three hundred twenty f-feet, um…" Newt's voice breaks a little as Hermine slips her fingers just under the waistband of Newt's trousers.

"Go on," Hermine murmurs, tugging at Newt's ear with her teeth.

"Uh… three hundred twenty feet, like twenty-eight tons and - fuck, Hermine, get on with it!"

"I don't think so," Hermine says. "I want to hear about the rest of them."

"You've _heard_ about the rest of them," Newt says through gritted teeth.

"But I've never heard it quite this breathless before."

Hermine smirks, a facsimile of Newt's earlier grin. Newt stares up at her face blearily for a moment, then groans in defeat and starts rattling off kaiju facts as fast as she can.

"Left forearm?"

"Yamarashi, hit Long Beach in October, twenty seventeen, Cat. three and fucking huge, twenty-five hundred tons, taken down by Gipsy Danger–"

Hermine finally pushes her hand down all the way into Newt's trousers and Newt cuts herself off with a choked out moan.

"Taken down by Gipsy Danger…?" Hermine prompts gently, brushing against Newt's clit with two fingertips.

"Fucking… Piloted by Yancy and Raleigh Becket, their first kill," Newt finishes in one breath. The tendons in her neck are stretched taut with anticipation, her back arching up with every slow circle of Hermine's fingers. "I fucking hate you, you know that?"

"I know," Hermine says, and bites at Newt's collarbone. "Right arm?"

The words tumble fast out of Newt's mouth as she ruts upwards into Hermine's hand. "Hundun on my forearm and Knifehead up top, hit Manila and Anchorage respectively, both big bastards and the first was killed by a nuclear warhead and the second by Gipsy Danger again and Christ, Hermine, _please_."

"Please what?"

"Faster, harder, _anything_ ," Newt says desperately. "This isn't enough, I need–"

"What's this one?" Hermine asks, kissing at one of the rows of eyes inked onto Newt's chest.

"Onibaba. Got that one after I stopped teaching at MIT. Pentecost had just ended it on his own, seemed fitting since it was the last one before I got in." Newt sounds almost fond under the strain in her voice.

"I never knew that," Hermine muses, and her fingers twitch forward in reward, just a little faster.

Newt clenches her eyes shut and grinds her hips up hard. Hermine traces the tip of her tongue down the green ink lining Newt's breasts. She sucks one nipple into her mouth and glances up with a 'go on' sort of look.

Newt curses loudly and her whole body is tight and strained. "Small, less than two hundred feet, about two thousand tons, hit - fuck!" Hermine presses two fingers into her, not letting her adjust at all before her thumb takes up the rhythm again, rubbing hard against Newt's clit as she pushes deeper and deeper. "H-hit Tokyo in May twenty sixteen and… and…" Newt breaks off as just a hint of teeth scrapes over her nipple. "Fuck, Hermine, I can't, I can't…"

"It's alright," Hermine says softly. Newt rocks up hard, muttering curses under her breath, and Hermine decides she's pushed enough. Her hand speeds up as fast as her wrist can manage in the confines of Newt's trousers and her fingers curl up and her thumb presses down and she feels the strain of the muscles in her arm, the way the pain in her hip makes her legs shake, but Newt is shaking harder, curling into her, burying her face into Hermine's shoulder and all but whimpering out pleas in a tone of voice Hermine never would have expected from her. So she presses on, mouthing along lines of ink, keeping tight circles tighter and drawing Newt's face back up to kiss her hard and she swallows the sudden, loud moan of surprise as the tension finally snaps and Newt's orgasm hits her hard. She bites down on Hermine's lip to stifle the sound and digs nails into Hermine's arms and arches up hard, high enough to reach a hand under the curve of her back, and they stay like that for one long, stretched out moment where Hermine shakes from the strain and Newt shakes from the pleasure and they breathe together when it's all over, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed until Hermine's hip wins out and she rolls off of the bed, sitting down hard on the edge of the night stand.

Newt stares blankly up at the ceiling, chest still heaving a little, and slurs something that might be "well, that was good."

"You could just enjoy the post-coital silence," Hermine offers. Newt reaches one arm out and lazily smacks at Hermine's knee, then lets her arm fall and they do enjoy the silence, Hermine rubbing her hip and Newt tracing two fingertips over her own lips until they glance at each other at the same time and Newt nods and Hermine does back to her room and falls asleep thinking about working with Newt the next morning and if hot days in the Dome might not actually be the worst thing.


End file.
